The Farmer and the Tree
by friendlyquark
Summary: Magiranger Makito meets a mysterious young woman and finds himself falling in love. MO/OC, hints of U/H and other canon pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – Hard Hearts

"Makito, how can you be so simple?" Eriko's voice was shrill and angry. Her pretty face was screwed up in an expression of exasperation and he felt a wave of shame washing over him. Standing there in his garden, the little urban plot he had grandly titled "Aniki farms", he felt grubby and foolish. His dirt stained apron and gloves, his grimy face, and his mud encrusted boots, all contrasted poorly with Eriko's pin-striped suit and high heels.

"I did apologize to her, several times," he replied, feeling about ten years old as she scolded him. Next to his girlfriend, stood her best friend, a woman as refined and elegant as Eriko was. They both wore identical expressions of disapproval. Somehow, at the stylish dinner party her friend had given, Makito had managed to offend several people. He still wasn't quite sure how. He had been polite to everyone, even the horrible old auntie who had spent the whole evening talking about her dog.

"You are always apologizing, Makito, and it never changes anything." Eriko looked sad now, as though it pained her to speak the words. "You heart is good, but you don't fit into my world," she finished and her head drooped down. "I think that we should stop seeing each other."

"You don't have to be so kind, Eriko," her friend butted in, with her hands on her hips and feet planted apart. "He's rude and boorish. He has no manners or polish. He's just a hyakushō! He's a nothing, a stupid farmer!"

Eriko frowned at her friend and jabbed her with a finger for her rudeness, but the words lingered in his mind. Even as her friend was dragging her away, Eriko looked back with sadness in her eyes, but she didn't stay and she didn't refute the hurtful words.

As they walked away, her friend tripped over the roots of the spreading cherry tree that grew at the edge of the lot and landed face first into the dirt. Eriko helped her up and then they were gone and out of sight.

Makito, called Aniki by his siblings, stood in his garden surrounded by the vegetable he grew to supplement his family's meager earnings and stared at the earth for a long time. Finally, he picked up his hoe and went back to work.

It took him a long time to do his work that day, sweat mingling with tears on his face.

She watched the two women walking away with a feeling of savage satisfaction. Tripping the rude girl up had been far less than she had wanted to do to her. How could they possibly have been so cruel to Makito-san? Talking to him in such a terrible way, it was unforgivable.

She sighed as he went back to his labors, obviously distraught. He stood, the sides of his black hair tied back in a short ponytail behind his head, the rest hanging down behind, staring sightlessly at the ground. He had a strong face, with two slashes of black brows over eyes that laughed more often than they frowned.

He was tall and sturdily built, reminding her of nothing so much as an oak tree. Strong, with roots planted deep in the earth, branches spread out to shelter all those around him, he deserved better than that stuck up girl.

She wished that there was something she could do to help him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Strange Encounters

The very next morning was the first time that Makito saw the strange girl. He had come in a little earlier than usual, still miserable about the break-up, wanting to lose himself in the hard labor that the farm required.

He only saw her from a distance, a slender, delicate figure, dressed in kimonos that seemed to have come from a different time. Her black hair, long and lustrous fell down her back in a smooth wave and her dark eyes seemed to be focused on a great distance.

He only saw her for a moment, standing at the edge of his field, the early morning mist making her seem more like a left over dream, that he had not quite awoken from, than anything real and solid. She was standing beside the old cherry tree, though in the mist, it was hard to tell whether she even saw him. He blinked and she was gone.

He didn't mention the sighting to anyone, of course. His family thought of him as the sensible brother. As the eldest of five, he had always taken care of the others and he had long since rid himself of fanciful notions. He didn't want them to think that he was seeing ghosts, so he didn't tell them about the mysterious woman in the garden.

She was probably nothing strange anyway, some girl going home from a formal party, perhaps a little drunk. So, there was really nothing to say, after all.

The second time that he saw her, it was in the middle of the night. The darkness was deep and the moonlight barely illuminated the garden down below his window. He heard a soft sound that woke him from sleep. It could have been branches rubbing together, or possibly cloth being dragged across the ground. He went to his window to see, bare chest chilled by the night air, as he opened the window to look out. His hair, unbound for sleeping, whipped across his face, in the breeze from his window and he pushed it back with a frown.

The gate that led to his farm garden was open, the path somewhat orange tinted from the sodium light of a nearby streetlight. There was no traffic in the road that ran by outside his family's home, though, somewhere far off, a dog barked.

Looking down, his eyes caught a movement. The girl from the other morning was there in the house garden, kneeling before one of his ferns. He frowned more deeply, that plant had been sickly and hadn't been growing well, but he hadn't wanted to pull it out. He had poured plant food onto its roots, spoken gently to it, and aerated the soil with a small rake, but nothing had worked. Still, he had hope for it and kept at it.

She knelt above the ailing foliage, dark hair falling around the plant like a black curtain. He could see her lips moving, but could hear nothing of what she said. Then she rose and quietly went down the gravel path and out of the gate, back towards his farm garden. There was another road that ran by there, perhaps she lived along that road.

He wasn't certain as to why he didn't call out, after all, she had been trespassing in his family's yard. It just seemed natural somehow, as though she belonged there. When she was gone from sight, he closed the window and padded back to bed. By morning, he was certain that it had merely been a dream.

Except, the fern was stronger that morning, and within days it had turned the deep rich green of good health. He thought about saying something to his family then, but he didn't. After all, he wasn't certain exactly what he'd seen.

He wrestled with his silence, wondering if he should speak to someone. Still, Urara was probably the one he most wanted to speak with. His youngest sister, had gone to live with her husband in Magitopia, and as glad as he was that they had found each other, he missed her sensible advice acutely, not to mention her talents with a crystal ball. She could have told him easily what he had seen.

His other sister, Houka, was flighty and silly, though her heart was always full of compassion. Her magical skills were great, but her discretion wasn't, and for some reason he wanted to keep the sightings a secret just now. He wondered if he could talk about this with her in the abstract, but dismissed the idea quickly, she was too curious and would hound him endlessly.

His also didn't feel like confiding in his two younger brothers, the elder of them, Tsubasa, was always cynical and rational, he would dismiss the whole thing out of hand as a dream, or assume it was a hungry ghost that meant to attack them. His youngest sibling, Kai, was so precipitous that anything you told him was likely to be acted upon immediately. He could just see him running around with his wand, hunting for the girl like she was an oni down from the mountains.

That left only his parents. But still, even as he thought of telling them, he knew that he wouldn't. After all, he wasn't even certain that he had seen anything at all.

The third time though, he knew that he wasn't dreaming.

The evening was late and he had stayed in the field, hoeing and raking long past his usual hour. Fall was coming on and there was much to clear out to prepare his beds for winter. The evening was filled with red and gold light filtered through branches and leaves from the various trees that clustered around the field. It was cold that evening, though he hardly noticed it, he was so wrapped up in his work. He heard a step and turned in surprise, thinking that one of his siblings had come to help him.

She was standing there beside him, a cup of fragrant green tea held out in her hand, her expression concerned. The pattern on her kimono was interlaced cherry branches, bare, with the last of the fall leaves turning colors, small birds perched among the woven twigs. But it was her eyes, fathomless and filled with wisdom and kindness that arrested him. They dominated her heart-shaped face, a brown so dark that it was nearly black and framed in thick dark lashes.

"You are shivering," she told him, her voice was soft, but very definitely real. It wasn't until she said that that he realized he was cold. His teeth were chattering and his fingers were blue. He was kneeling beside the cabbage patch, his smaller hoe in his hand, working at turning the soil and he could suddenly feel the chill as it rose up from the ground.

"Thank you," he bowed politely from the waist and accepted the cup from her, his fingers gratefully wrapping around the heat. She sank down beside him on the dirt covered stone walkway and he protested. "You will get mud on your kimono!" His words made her smile and it was like sunshine and birdsong to him.

"This good earth, which you have tended and poured your heart into? I am lucky to touch it." He found himself flushing and sipped the tea to cover his embarrassment. The heat of the liquid seemed to fill him up inside, seeping into his bones and warming him completely. "The tea helps?" she asked softly and he could have listened to her speak forever.

"Yes, it does." He was caught up in her eyes, the way she smiled, shyly now, as though she had just become aware that they were here, alone in the garden together. "Thank you again." He was trembling again now, but not from the cold.

She took his hand and warmed it between her own and her touch was soft as flower petals. His hand, so rough and calloused from work embarrassed him and he quickly drew it away, much to her startlement. "My hands are dirty," he explained and her face cleared.

"Honest dirt is nothing to be ashamed of," she laughed, and he could see from her eyes that she was serious. She looked at him as though he were important, not just some farmer in his field, but someone worthy of honor. Not being able to tell most people about his being a magician, made it even more important to him that she respected him for the little he could tell her.

It was nice to see admiration in a girl's eyes, especially after Eriko and her friend's stinging contempt. "I like your hands," she admitted, looking as surprised by the confession as he was.

"Onii-chan!" Houka's voice could be heard drifting across the garden and he turned, startled, to answer her.

"Here!" He turned back to speak to the woman, but she was gone, only a soft impression in the earth beside him as proof that she had been there at all. He found that he felt the loss of her acutely and resented Houka's arrival. Clearing his face of his disappointment, he rose and brushed off his pants. Either she was incredibly shy, had been embarrassed to be caught alone in the garden with a strange man, or she was a figment of his imagination.

He realized that the teacup, fine and fragile as a flower, still lay in his hand. So, she was not a mere imagining then.

Houka, bright, pretty, with her dark hair waving around her face, came bounding in to the field, full of energy and exuberance. Beside her he felt dirty and tired as he rose and brushed the dirt off of his work pants.

"Onii-chan!" Houka, impatient now, gestured him back towards the path to the house. "Kaa-san has dinner ready! It's sukiyaki! Hurry!" She was bouncing excitedly, it was one of her favorite meals and Kaa-san rarely served it.

With a last backwards glance at the spot where the stranger had knelt, he went into dinner, the teacup still cradled in his hand. If it hadn't been for the warmth of the stranger's fingers he would have been quite certain that she had been a ghost.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Changing Winds

Days passed and she did not appear again. He spent more time at the farm, hoping to catch sight of her walking by on the road, for surely she must live in the area. But even in her absence, he found that she was changing how he saw things. His was less self conscious about his dirt and grime, less embarrassed by the roughness of his hands. The girl had said she liked them and, even if he didn't know her name, her opinion mattered to him.

That week, when he went to deliver his vegetables to Eriko's coffee house, as usual, he didn't feel as downcast as he had. Suddenly, Eriko seemed less appealing to him, with her perfect nails and high heels. Her superficiality, which he had been blind to before, seemed so obvious to him now. His determined pursuit of her had yielded him nothing but heartbreak and her tendency to flirt with any pretty man had just made him jealous and insecure. He could see now that he had never felt good enough around her, and the revelation was startling to him.

Looking back, it seemed absurd to him that he had poured so much of himself into so empty and useless a quest. He wondered what had happened to him that his adoration of her had dissipated so quickly. Was he so terribly fickle?

The teacup sat on his bedside table and each night, before he fell asleep, he traced the fragile china with a finger, following the pattern of cherry blossoms as they drifted down the sides.

When at last she returned, he was again taken by surprise. He was planting bulbs in the house garden, trying to get them into the ground before the frost came. They were not for food, or to sell, they were for his mother, who liked iris and so he worked with especial care.

"They will grow tall and make lovely flowers," she said and he turned to find her at his elbow. Today, her kimono was rust colored, with fall leaves and acorns on it. Her hair was tied back with a reddish colored band. Her face, thus displayed had all the delicacy of the fine porcelain of the teacup. He wondered if she were training to be a Geisha, she always seemed to be dressed so formally.

"I think so too," he answered her and then paused. "I'm Ozu Makito." She smiled at him and nodded. It occurred to him to wonder how she had gotten into the garden without him seeing her at the gate, but he had been absorbed in his planting and had no doubt simply missed her entrance.

"I'm Ki Sakura," she answered and he studied her for a moment, seeing how perfect the name was. She did seem as pretty and fragile as a cherry blossom, though her parents must have thought it was a funny joke to name her Cherry Blossom Tree.

"Do you live around here?" She blinked at him, apparently surprised at his question, and then laughed aloud, a warm and friendly sound that him smile in response.

"Very near," she answered, but the way she said it made him think that she was joking. He ran out of words then, feeling happy just to have her there beside him. She reached into the bucket and pulled out another bulb and handed it to him. He accepted it with a smile and together they set to work planting the bulbs. Once they finished, he rose and shoveled the rest of the dirt into the wheelbarrow. She picked up the broom and began sweeping the walkway clear.

"You will dirty your pretty clothes!" he exclaimed.

"It's okay; dirt is something good to get on you." She gave him a bright smile as she said it and he shook his head in confusion. What girl wandered around the suburbs of Tokyo in formal kimono and stopped to help someone plant bulbs? He wondered if perhaps she had escaped from her keepers, but she didn't seem crazy, just a little odd. She was also very pretty and he was suddenly concerned for her.

"You know, it isn't safe to talk to strangers, you should be more careful!" She stopped and gave him a startled look and then burst out laughing.

"I don't talk to strangers, only to you Makito-san!" There was such an earnestness to her words, despite her laughter, that it made him wonder what she meant by it.

They finished the rest of the cleaning in silence, smiles saying all that they needed to.

He didn't see her again all winter and found that for all that he hardly knew her, he missed her greatly. He craned his neck to look for her as he walked down the street, hoping to catch sight of her. He started when someone went by in kimono and obi, wondering if it were her. The sound of geta clattering by on the sidewalk would snap his head around, but it was never the right girl.

His mother noticed his abstraction. It was in late January and the family was having breakfast. Houka, Kai, mother and father, they were eating and talking together. The family was always loud and boisterous; he had hoped that their noise would cover his silence.

His missed his other siblings, though he was happy that they were succeeding in their chosen lives. Tsubasa, he knew, was away boxing in Korea, Urara and Hikaru were at their apartment. No doubt, he mused, Hikaru is fussing over Urara just now, worried about the baby that was coming soon.

"Aniki, what happened between you and Eriko?" his mother asked him, from out of nowhere, using his childhood nickname and speaking to him with concern in her face.

"It didn't work out," he answered absently.

"Eh?" Houka's surprised reaction and the face she pulled brought him out of his reverie. "You sound very calm!"

"She was very nice, but she didn't like the dirt," he explained and they all stared at him with wide eyes.

"But you said that you loved her, you pursued her so ardently!" Houka protested, hands clasped to her chest. "She kissed you! How can you be so offhand about this?"

"She didn't really love me; she only was kind to me because I helped her." He could see that now, he could see that she was shallow and superficial, and that he had fallen for a face and an outward seeming. Sakura was far more beautiful, but she worked beside him without complaint, content to get dirty and with as much love for the earth as he had.

"But Onii-chan, aren't you heart-broken and sad?" Houka asked him with an expression of confusion and concern. He looked at his baby brother and his parents and saw identical looks on their faces as well. He shook his head, surprised by how little he cared now. Sakura had washed that sorrow out of him with one smile.

"No, it's for the best." He nodded at them and turned back to eating his mother's delicious cooking. No one made fried eggs as perfectly as she did. He missed the looks of bafflement and confusion that his family gave each other.

He was working diligently in the garden for the next week, tilling the soil and preparing his beds for spring, but he was oblivious to his family's whispers. He missed Sakura more each passing day, but despite his attempts to find her in the phone book, there was no listing for a Ki Sakura. He wondered if she lived with a married sister.

January was halfway through before he saw her again. He was breaking through the frozen earth with a shovel, trying hard to turn the soil. Sweat beaded his brow, despite the chilly air and he was tired and thirsty. His siblings had gone to work or school, his parents has taken the train down to Kyoto and he was feeling very much alone.

Her hand appeared in the corner of his eye and he tuned quickly, his heart speeding up with joy. She had a small towel held out to him and he smiled as he accepted it. Her kimono was grey this time, with the trees done in a deep black, the bare branches starkly outlined in white snow. The hard earth allowed no mark from her geta, but the rustle of her kimono over the withered grass was a welcome sound to him.

"Thank you." He bowed in gratitude, both for the towel and just because she had returned. He wiped his face and then she handed him water in a fired clay cup. He drank thirstily, finding the water cold and clear. Her eyes on his were concerned, gentle, and full of quiet depths.

"You have been working hard," she commented, looking around at the cleared beds.

"Yes," he answered and suddenly a thousand questions bubbled up in his mind. Where had she been, where did she live, and what was she doing in his garden? He opened his mouth to ask, but watched as her face fell. He closed his mouth on all his questions and took a deep breath. "Are you enjoying the winter?" he asked instead.

Her smile blossomed again, soft pink lips turning up in a face of palest white.

"I have, the winter is very peaceful, but I look forward to the spring." They stood there, he with towel and cup in his hands, she with hers clasped before her, and just looked at each other for a long moment.

"Spring is always welcome," he answered finally. He was lost in her gaze, unmoving and unsure of quite what was happening. She confused him, but she also drew him and he could not turn away from her gaze. Finally she flushed a little and looked away, suddenly seeming aware of the intensity of the moment.

"Yes, there will be much to do in the garden." For the first time, she seemed at a loss for words, as uncertain as he was.

"Houka will help me though," he told her and she cocked her head in enquiry.

"My sister," he explained. "I am the eldest of five." Best to warn her first, it occurred to him, in case they descended upon him.

"Tell me about them?" she asked diffidently and with a broad smile he did so. There were many stories to relate and he loved telling them. He told her about Houka's search for the perfect man and the many foolish things she had done in the course of it. He made Sakura laugh aloud when he described the wedding that almost happened and while he did not explain all Houka's reasons, he did not wish Sakura to think poorly of her either, so he edited carefully, but with kindness.

He told of sweet, gentle Urara, tales of how she scrubbed pots when sad and distressed. How she had cooked and cleaned with such diligence when father and mother had been away. How she had won the heart of her husband with her courage and kindness. Sakura's smiles, questions, and exclamations made each story even more special to him.

Next he told her of clever Tsubasa, the thinker in the family. He told stories of how Tsubasa had used his brain to solve childhood problems and to help Urara keep the peace between them all, though his arguments with Kai were legendary. He told her about Tsubasa's boxing career and how well he was doing and she shared in his pride and his joy.

He spoke next of irrepressible Kai, with his fiery temper and huge heart, who was never afraid of anything except failing his family. He told stories of each one of them and then things that they had all done together and as he spoke, they worked together in the garden.

With her assistance the time seemed to fly by and when they were finished he looked around in surprise.

"We've done so much!" he exclaimed in surprise. She nodded and her pleased smile as she admired their accomplishment warmed him through. Here, he thought to himself, was a woman who loved the same things that he did. It occurred to him that she had become his friend somewhere along the way.

She stepped over to the faucet and bent to wash her hands in the water. Her face was dirty, smudged with earth, her hair tangled, her kimonos had stains on them, her tabi were more brown than white, and her geta were caked in mud, but she grinned at him with a look of purest joy.

It was that moment when he realized that he was helplessly in love.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Shaking Leaf

Sakura sat quietly, with her feet tucked under her, watching him as he worked. He couldn't see her, of course. She was deep inside of her tree, beyond his reach. She sighed to herself and wished that she could step out and speak to him again. It wasn't allowed though; she had already done too much.

That last day, as she had been washing her hands, she had looked up into his eyes and her smile had faded. She had seen something shining on his face that she had never expected. Her kind had no heart; they could not cry, or fall in love. To have allowed him to fall in love with her was cruel and she regretted it bitterly.

She should have seen this coming, though. It had been foolish of her to go out to him as she was. She had forgotten that he was a man grown now, and not the little Aniki who had climbed her as a child. She was at fault for the result of her carelessness. She had only wanted to help him and now she had done something unforgivable.

To feel things for a human, even if it were possible for her, was forbidden. He had become her friend, she liked him, and enjoyed talking to him, spending time with him, and she assured herself that there was no more to it than that. She would miss their time together, but it meant nothing more than that he had become a friend. He was a normal human, to feel anything more for him, well, it was unthinkable.

She only hoped that he would soon forget his mysterious friend, though she knew that she would never forget him. Long after he had finished his work and walked away home, she remained staring at where he had been, thinking of the unthinkable.

Spring arrived and Makito went about his planting and fertilizing with a heavy heart. He had hoped that Sakura would return, but he hadn't seen her in weeks. He felt as though something essential to him was missing these days and he was filled with a leaden depression.

"An-kun," his mother's voice roused him from where he sat on the front steps to the old house, head bowed over a farming manual. He realized that he had been staring at the same page for some minutes without reading a word of it.

"Kaa-san," he answered and gave her a smile that he had to dredge up with a great effort.

"Something has been bothering you for some time, and I wonder when you will talk to me about it." His mother's voice had a sad patience in it that made him feel guilty for his preoccupation.

Miyuki was a beautiful woman, age had laid a very gentle hand on her and she hardly looked forty-eight. Her dark hair waved around her face and her eyes were outlined with the memories of past smiles. She had a flower like quality that was surely part of what had drawn Makito's father to her. She had raised the five siblings almost entirely by herself as their father had been away a great deal in their childhood. He had always gone to her with every problem, but this time he had stayed silent.

"Kaa-san, I am such an idiot," he admitted and she laughed gently and shook her head.

"You are many things, child, but not that," she answered.

"No, I should have spoken with you sooner." He shook his head at his own foolishness.

"You are speaking to me now, An-kun." The endearment made him feel like a child again, but in a good way, it took him back to the days when a cookie could soothe all ills. His mother's smile was all-encompassing and reminded him strongly of Sakura's.

"I met a girl." It was a simple statement, but it contained a wealth of emotion and meaning. "But, I don't know where she lives. In fact, I know almost nothing about her. We have talked and she has helped me in the garden, but she never talked about herself and she hasn't come by for weeks now. I think that she's not coming back." The words fell over each other trying to get out of his mouth. The anguish that he had been repressing so hard, broke free, and he felt hot tears coursing down his cheeks.

His mother put an arm around him and he leaned against her. He was so much taller than she was that he could rest his cheek against her hair and the familiar tickle of it soothed him.

"Aniki, this girl, do you think that she cares for you?" It was an excellent question and one that wished that he had an answer to.

"I don't know, Kaa-chan, sometimes I think that she does and sometimes I am certain I'm fooling myself. All I know is that I have fallen in love with her and I wish I knew where she was." His words came out with more anguish than he had intended them too and his mother squeezed his shoulders.

"If she does love you, An-kun, she'll come back."

But she didn't.

Makito had felt something wrong in the forest, Urara had been called and she had used her crystal ball to determine that there was some disturbance in the woods nearby. They had all sighed and fetched their wands. It was always something, he thought to himself with irritation. Some cursed item, or a demon, or a mischievous spirit that needed to be dealt with, always seemed to show up and need to be defeated.

His heart wasn't in it that day however, which is probably why he got so badly hurt.

Sakura tried not to worry. It was past ten and Makito still hadn't come to the field that day. Summer was well advanced and the plants needed water. It was completely unlike him to ignore their needs. Still, he might have been called away. But, she reasoned, had that been the case, he would certainly have had someone to come care for the plants, wouldn't he? She argued with herself for a long time, trying to remain calm, but becoming more and more agitated.

Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

Checking the area carefully, to be certain that there were no humans about, she slipped out of her tree. For the brief moment of stepping out she would be visible to anyone walking by and it was her moment of greatest vulnerability. Once she settled onto the ground she made herself incorporeal, a mere wafting of a breeze. Drifting noiselessly down the stone pathway, she headed towards the Ozu family house.

She arrived outside the kitchen window and listened to the sounds coming from inside. She disliked the idea of spying like this, but she was growing very worried now.

"So has he said anything else?" The voice was Houka's, she knew it well. The eldest daughter sometimes came to "help" Makito in the farm garden. She usually just sat and ate the fruits and vegetables, but her cheerfulness at least helped make the time pass.

"Not since that day, no, he hasn't said anything." It was his mother speaking now, though she wasn't certain what they were talking about.

"Could it be related to the attack?" Sakura felt a flutter of fear go through her again. Had something happened to Makito?

"I don't think so; this seems to be something else entirely." She heard them clattering around the kitchen, no longer speaking, and she drifted upwards, searching for his window.

She peered into several before she found what she was looking for. There on the bed was Makito, head swathed in bandages, lying still and pale beneath the sheets. Her heart seemed to freeze inside of her at the sight of him. His eyes looked bruised, his face was covered in cuts and scrapes and his breathing was shallow.

Nearby his brother Kai sat, watching over him. Thin and rather delicate looking, Kai had a shock of black hair that shot out at all angles and had dyed patches of red in it. He had wide eyes that were usually bubbling over with either his fiery temper or with merriment, but which were now staring at his brother with great solemnity.

Something had happened to Makito and she had had no idea. A terrible sense of guilt came over her, somehow she should have protected him better, should have been there when he needed her, should at least have known that he was in trouble. Even as she thought it, she knew it was mere foolishness, but she couldn't stop the feelings of fear and grief from nearly overwhelming her.

She felt herself falling to the ground, her concentration broken, and the thump of her body landing on the walkway below was clearly audible.

In horror, she made herself incorporeal again, but the damage was done. Footsteps came rushing out of the house and with a feeling that she was doing something incredibly foolish, she launched herself upwards, towards Makito's bedroom window, rather than the direction that prudence dictated. Still thinking that she should be running back to her tree as fast as she could, she darted into his window and settled down onto the floor beside his bed.

"Makito-san?" she whispered, letting herself take full form again.

"Sakura-san?" His eyes flew open and he smiled weakly at her, his injuries obviously had drained him. She returned the smile, relived that he was awake.

She sat on the edge of the bed and he reached out, taking her hand in his. She held tightly to him, feeling the life that still flowed through him, she could sense that he was slowly recovering. He was weak, but the injuries were not life threatening. Relief flooded her and she smiled again in genuine happiness.

"You scared me. That's not nice to do," she scolded, still smiling, and he laughed softly, though it was really more of a cough than a laugh.

"I will try not to do so again," he responded, but his voice was growing faint. His eyes fluttered closed and in the next moment, he was asleep. She carefully extracted her hand from his and leaned over to kiss him lightly on the brow. She poured healing into him with her kiss, giving him strength, the way she did to the plants that she watched over.

"Sleep well, Makito," she murmured and then, before his family returned, she became no more than a breeze again and slipped out the window and back to the garden. She would water the plants and see to the day's work and then for certain, she wouldn't come back out of her tree again. She was quite determined not to succumb to this weakness she had for him again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Blossoms Opening

Makito woke feeling better than he knew he had any right to. He wondered if Tsubasa had come home and whipped up some potion for him to take, because he felt almost completely healed from his battle with the dark magician.

"Onii-san?" his younger brother called to him. Makito grinned at the worried tone and sat up.

"Kai, what's for breakfast?" he asked and started to get out of bed.

"Wait, wait!" Kai protested. "You're still injured!" Makito just laughed and grabbed his clothes, standing easily and with little pain.

"Where's Sakura?" he asked eagerly, heading out the door of his bedroom and into the hallway.

"Who?" Kai's confused tone and puzzled face made him freeze in place. Surely he hadn't dreamed that she had been there? Yet, if she had come, then surely she had been let into the house by the family.

He darted down the hallway and into the kitchen. His parent's looked up in shock at his abrupt entrance.

"Aniki-kun!" his mother cried out. "What are you doing up!"

"Mother, did you let Sakura in yesterday?" He stared into her eyes hoping desperately for a look of comprehension, a smile of recognition, anything. Instead, she gave him a puzzled frown.

"Who's Sakura?" his father asked, just as confused as she was. With a feeling of unreality, Makito sank down into one of the chairs and felt the elation he had woken with dissipating.

"I must have dreamed it," he choked out, feeling his depression rushing back in again.

"Dreamed what?" Isamu demanded, looking back and forth between his wife and son.

"Is that her name, Aniki?" his mother was watching him very closely and he nodded.

"I thought that she was there yesterday, that we spoke, but none of you let her in. She couldn't have been there. I was dreaming." The words sounded strange in his ears, like someone else was speaking. "I'm tired." He rose from the table and went back up to bed, feeling lost and very sad.

Sakura was just finishing the watering when she felt a hand descend upon her shoulder. She turned, thinking it was Makito, only to see his father Isamu, standing there.

"You are Sakura?" he asked her and she nodded helplessly. He was studying her with calm eyes, apparently unfazed to find a strange woman in a yellow kimono watering his son's garden. "I am Ozu Isamu, Makito's father, but you know that already don't you?" Again she found herself nodding, feeling strangely intimidated by this man.

"He's better today?" She hadn't meant to ask, but she couldn't keep herself from doing so. She was immediately ashamed of herself. What was this inability of hers to put him away from her?

"He's fine." The answer brought a feeling of almost lightheaded giddiness, but the feeling was erased completely by his next words. "You are in love with him, aren't you?" Even though it was phrased as a question, it was really more of a statement. She shook her head violently, pulling back from him in dismay.

"I can't! It's not possible! It's not allowed" she blurted out, feeling a wave of panic rising in her. He blinked, surprised now, and she used the moment to vanish and flee back to her tree. It was a terrible breach of the rules to do such a thing in full view of a human, but she couldn't have stood there for even a moment more without spilling her secrets out, which would have been the bigger breach of all.

Isamu stood in the garden for a long moment, looking around and she was certain that he was somehow searching for her. It was impossible, of course, as she was invisible inside her tree. Even so, there was a moment where it seemed to her that he saw her, all huddled up inside the trunk, miserable and frightened. Finally he turned and left, walking back up the path to the house.

Sakura felt completely lost.

Makito was lying in his bed, trying to sleep when he heard the footsteps in the hall. His bedroom door opened and he sighed as his father came into view. Gone for the majority of his childhood, they were only starting to get to know one another again. It made for moments of awkwardness as they tried to relate to each other. Makito hoped this wasn't going to be one of those moments.

"You weren't dreaming," his father announced and Makito sat up bolt upright in the bed.

"What?"

"I went down to your farm; she was there, watering the vegetables."

Makito launched himself from the bed, ready to race to the farm at top speed, but his father stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"She's gone, now." He froze and looked at the expression on his father's face; there was sorrow and something akin to pity on his face.

"What happened? What did you say to her?" He felt as though someone was squeezing his heart in a fist.

"Makito, she's a tree kami." At first, the words didn't make any sense to him. They seemed to be coming to him through a buzz of static. Finally, understanding came crashing down on him. The way that she just seemed to appear from nowhere, the kimonos and geta, the way she had with plants, her strange reticence, it suddenly all made sense to him. Desolation flooded through him. The kami of the Earth had no hearts; it wasn't possible for them to fall in love.

"But, I love her," he whispered, and then crumpled to his knees, his face buried in his hands. His father held him as he gave in to his hopeless grief and despair.

Miyuki stood outside the bedroom door, quietly listening to her husband and son. She had long suspected that the girl was a kami, she had wondered if she were a fox-spirit, but a tree spirit, made far more sense. Makito's magic was nature based, his affinity was for plants and trees, they responded to him as if he were one of them.

Had he been anyone else it was quite possible that the poor girl would never have fallen in love with her son, but as it was, there may be more hope than either of the two men suspected. Still, it was something that Makito would have to discover for himself.

Sakura wished that it were possible for a kami to weep. She could feel the sorrow in her struggling for release, but had no outlet for it. She wrapped herself tightly inside her tree, taking comfort from the birds that perched high in her branches, from the deep places where her roots dug down, and from the sunlight as it warmed her leaves.

She was her tree and her tree was her, yet at the same time they were also separate things. Lately, as she had become ever more concerned with Makito, she had felt the separation rather acutely. She had been experiencing emotions that weren't supposed to be possible for one of her kind and it had affected her bond with her tree.

She heard someone in the garden and tucked herself even deeper down, suddenly uneasy again. She had never felt so jittery and scared in the garden before, but Makito's father had spooked her badly.

Somehow he had seen her, even hidden within her tree. He felt different to her in that moment, as though there were something about him that she ought to recognize. Her emotions were in such turmoil though that she couldn't think straight.

A hand touched the bark of her tree and she heard Makito's voice calling to her. Uncoiling slowly from the heart of the tree she found herself moving towards him before she had realized what she was doing. She held herself back from the last stage, staying within the tree, but pressed against the place where his hand rested, letting the warmth of it soak into her.

"Sakura, my father was sorry to scare you today," he sighed and she realized with shock that he was speaking to her. Somehow, he knew that she was there, inside the tree. "Please come out and talk to me." There was such entreaty in his voice that, as much as she told herself that she shouldn't, she simply could not refuse him.

Feeling shy and out of her depth, Sakura stepped slowly from her tree. She drifted outward and then settled on the earth, geta clacking lightly on the path.

"Makito," she murmured and his eyes lit up at the sight of her. They stared at each other in silence, neither one knowing quite what to say, just looking their fill for once.

"Sakura, why didn't you tell me?" His words held an anguished note that she understood all to well.

"I'm so sorry, Makito, I never meant any harm," she tried to explain, hands twisting together in her agitation.

"I know that," he told her and he reached out to gently disentangle her hands, taking them in his own. "But how am I to work here in the garden, knowing that you are here?"

The strength and warmth of him, the nearness, the scent, all conspired to pull her against him and she burrowed deep into his embrace, seeking the same reassurance from it that she received from her tree. Humans touched like this she knew, but did it feel so safe to them as well?

"I don't know," she sighed. He wrapped her up in his arms, his cheek resting on the top of her head and she settled against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart against her cheek. Despite the fact that she knew that she had no heart, she felt as though the pain in her chest was eased, just being near to him.

"How did this happen?" he asked in a resigned tone and she felt a surge of aggravation.

"It happened because you don't take care of yourself!" she scolded, pulling back to glare at him. His pulled a face and she shook her head at him. "Don't try to disagree! You work so hard out here, every day you are doing something! You are here from sun up to sun down, in every kind of weather! If I hadn't brought you tea, you would have frozen!" It occurred to her that the shaking of his shoulder was him trying to suppress his laughter. "Don't laugh! It's true! You do everything for everyone and take no care for yourself!"

"Just like a woman to blame the man!" he chortled and she instantly sobered at his words.

"I'm not human, Makito-san," she reminded him and he fell silent, his eyes growing sad again. She hated to see that look in his eyes and wanted to do anything to stop his pain, but she was at a loss. She wasn't even certain what was happening to her, that she was so concerned for him.

"I know." He groaned and squeezed his eyes closed. "Which brings us back to the original question: What do I do now?" He opened his eyes again finally and she realized that there was moisture gathering in the corner of each eye. He was fighting back tears and the sight of it was killing her. She had made Makito cry. There was no pit deep enough to contain her misery over that.

"I wish I knew," she whispered, feeling as though all her good intentions had brought him nothing but pain. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come out where you could see me. It was very wrong of me. I wish it had never happened."

"I don't," he replied and she was struck silent by his response. "Even if you can't love me back, Sakura-chan, just knowing you has changed my life. I wouldn't give back a moment of the time we have spent together. Loving you may hurt me, but I am more alive now than I have ever been and I don't want to lose that feeling."

She stared at him in shock. His face was earnest and serious, his eyes filled with intensity and passion. He meant every word and it occurred to her that she didn't regret their time together either. A slow realization came over her. She could feel his emotions radiating from him and they seemed to resonate with her own.

"Makito, does being in love mean that you hurt when your loved one hurts? Does it mean missing them all the time they are gone? Is it when you cannot bear to make them unhappy?" she asked and he watched her as she spoke, hope dawning in his eyes. His slow nod of agreement confirmed something in her and she shook her head in bafflement.

"What are you saying?" he asked, hope fighting disbelief in him.

"That though a kami may have no heart, still somehow I have fallen in love with you," she told him, her voice shaky and her hands trembling.

He slipped his hand behind her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, and leaned down. She was unsure of what he was doing until his mouth touched hers.

The world went still, or maybe it was just her, she wasn't sure. Her chest was tight, she was dizzy, and his mouth on hers was burning hot. She was certain that she was going to die in his arms, so intense were the sensations. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, as her knees were so weak she could hardly stand. The kiss turned everything inside her to fire and feelings. There was nothing in all of the universe but the two of them, rapidly fusing into one being.

She hadn't even guessed that there could be so much power in a simple kiss. All those decades of watching young lovers trysting beneath the moon and she hadn't understood. He pulled her even more tightly against her, her feet left the ground as he lifted her up. She wasn't certain what it was that had started the sudden aching need in her, but she knew that only he had the cure for it.

They ended up, somehow, in a tangle of limbs on the ground, hands and mouths exploring each other, bodies moving to a rhythm and flow that was different than any she had known before. He was pulling away her kimono and she was tugging at his shirt. She had seen from a distance the behavior of humans, known what they did together, but nothing had prepared her for the touch of his hand on her skin, the hardness of his muscles, the need that spiraled up between them.

There was a brief pain but it was gone a moment later, the desire washing it away to a disregarded memory. She could feel him moving inside her, a wonderful, terrible, pressure was building up behind her eyes, until finally she was blinded by an explosion inside of her. Makito's hoarse exhalation, and the sudden surge of life coming into her, left her shaken.

They lay there in the darkness of the garden, wrapped in each other's arms, her kimonos spread out beneath them and trembled. Clinging to each other, in wonderment and not a little fear, she felt something on her face.

Makito reached out and drew his thumb across her cheek. She saw something glimmering in the moonlight and it took her a moment to recognize it.

A tear.

Her face went ashen and Makito could feel her stiffening beneath him. He had a moment of cold horror as he suddenly became aware of what they had done. In the moment it had seemed so right, so natural an expression of their feelings for each other. But the sight of the tears on her cheeks brought reality crashing down on him.

"She's a kami, Makito; it cannot be between you two. She can't feel human emotions, she can't cry, or love, it's alien to her nature. If she did feel these things, well, she wouldn't be a kami anymore, would she?" His father's words from earlier had returned to haunt him now, too late. She looked so stricken and panicked, that he pulled her tight against him.

"Sa-chan," he soothed, stroking her face with his hand. She slowly calmed down, but her face was still rather pale.

"An-chan," she whispered back to him and he kissed her again at the endearment. Somehow, kissing her triggered the feelings all over again and they were quickly roused and desperate for each other. He was so hungry for her touch, her kiss, that everything else lost focus for him. He forgot that he was outside at night, that while the garden was dark, it wasn't all that far from the road and there was a chance that they could be seen there, making love beneath the cherry tree.

He forgot everything but the silk of her skin, the heat of her body, the way it felt to plunge inside of her, to feel her moving beneath him, to hear her soft cries in the dark. Nothing else mattered, nothing else was real and when they collapsed, still wrapped around each other, nothing could overcome the joy in his heart.

Dawn was just starting to creep above the world, as he leaned on his elbow, one hand supporting his head and the other tracing the curve of her body. He wasn't certain when the exact moment had been, but during the night, he had determined that no power in heaven or earth could part her from him.

"Sakura," he began. She made a little enquiring noise, but was curled up tightly against him, sharing body heat, but also not wanting to be too far from him. "Would you marry me?" She stilled completely and drew back to look him in the face.

"What?" She sounded confused by the question.

"Would you marry me?" he asked again. "It would make me very happy, if you would say "yes"," he added.

"An-chan, if it makes you happy, then of course." He kissed her all over her face and hugged her tightly, joyful with her answer. "But I don't know what it means." There was a moment as he stared at her in shock and then he dissolved into laughter.

"It means that I want you with me for all of my life," he told her and she went from puzzlement to soft and tender smiles.

"That's good, because you are stuck with me," she told him with another soft kiss. "I can't get back into my tree anymore, so I will need somewhere to live."

His father looked like he could have been pushed over by a feather. His mother was grinning ear to ear. Houka was bouncing around the kitchen in joy and Kai just looked bemused.

"So we are getting married," he finished and Houka wagged a finger at him.

"And you thought_ I_ was getting married too fast that time, Onii-chan!" she teased.

"Nonsense, we have known each other for a year, at least," he retorted, trying to appear dignified, rather than just gleefully ecstatic. Sakura was tucked beneath his arm, looking decidedly rumpled and pink cheeked and also very desirable. He wanted this conversation to be over with, so he could get her upstairs. He wanted to do everything they had done before again, but this time in a bed.

"But she is a tree kami!" his father protested, rather faintly.

"Hush dear, and _you _are a mere mortal?" his mother asked with an arched brow. Isamu blinked and his mouth opened and then shut again. Sakura, who had not said a word up to this point, looked at him in surprise.

"Father is a sky kami," he murmured to her by way of explanation and Sakura's look of utter shock made him pause. "Didn't you know?" He pointed to the plant on the windowsill, concentrated for a moment and then watched her face as it the plant suddenly bloomed.

She was grinning and she grabbed him hard around the waist.

"If only you had told me! I would have married you months ago!" she cried and his family burst out laughing at her indignant expression.

"It's not something that I tell people normally," he protested and she poked him sharply. "Most people don't understand and it's not like you told me you were a tree spirit!"

"But I did, silly," she laughed. "You asked me who I was and I told you! I am Ki Sakura!"

"So you did," he acknowledged sheepishly. "So, you did."


End file.
